I Have No One
by seeimsmiling360
Summary: Chronicles Tara and Pam's complex and developing relationship, beginning with their interactions in episode 5 "Let's Boot n Rally."
1. Chapter 1

4 AM. A deserted Fangtasia. Empty glasses and bottles lay scattered across tables and counters. The smell of sweat, body odor, and blood wafted through the air. Tara worked her way down the bar, scooping TruBlood bottles towards her and letting them clank into a large plastic bin.

"Could you keep it the fuck down?" Pam hollered from her office, the sound of rapidly clicking keys then resuming.

Usually Tara would hold her tongue, having learned rather quickly to pick her battles when it came to Pam. But after being choked and humiliated by her in front of the entire bar that evening, she was just not having it.

"Why don't you come out here and fucking help me then? I'm not your goddamn maid," Tara muttered bitterly.

Pam used vamp speed and raced out of her office. She pulled Tara by the back of her head and brought her ear close to her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she retorted dryly, "did you say something? If you could repeat that, I'd be _ever_ so grateful."

"Fuck you," Tara said unflinchingly.

Pam started to move her hand towards Tara's throat, but Tara was expecting this and freed her grasp and sped to the other side of the room.

"Could you stop with the fucking choking, please? Jesus!" Tara exclaimed.

"If you stop with the fucking attitude," Pam replied.

"Why the hell am I staying here if all you do is treat me like fucking shit?" Tara asked furiously.

"I wouldn't need to if you stopped acting like a complete and utter idiot."

"Is this about the feeding in public tonight?" Tara demanded.

"You've been doing a lot of stupid shit lately, Tara. Shall I count the ways?" Pam said.

"How the hell am I supposed to know these things if you don't fucking teach me?" Tara argued.

"I didn't think you were capable of doing such asinine things." Pam replied.

"Like you were the perfect fucking vampire when you were first made," Tara countered sarcastically. "As if Eric treated you even close to the way you treat me."

Pam felt a stab in her stomach at the mention of Eric.

"I don't even _want_ to be this way, and you know that," Tara continued forcefully. As soon as she said it, she felt herself starting to get choked up, but she swallowed it down.

"I don't care," Pam stated, louder now. "And I'd rather you stayed dead too. You're a fucking pain in my ass."

This time, Pam's words hit Tara hard. She tried not to reveal how Pam's words stung, but it read loud and clear. Tara pursed her lips together tightly and felt her mouth began to quiver. She turned and started to walk out.

Pam surprised herself, feeling a small pang of guilt as she watched Tara walk away. Her stubbornness held her back from saying anything for a moment, but then she called out.

"Tara. I… I didn't mean that." Pam managed to get out.

"Uh huh," Tara bitterly said almost inaudibly under her breath.

"Come back inside. It's almost dawn for God's sake," Pam urged. She felt like she was begging, which disgusted her, but she truly didn't want Tara to go.

Tara pushed open the door and looked out. Hues of pink and orange were starting to bleed into the dark blue sky. As she pondered waiting outside until the sun rose, she remembered the excruciating pain that swept over her when she burned herself in the tanning bed. Yet here she was almost at the verge of doing it again.

_I have no one,_ Tara realized. Lafayette. Sookie. Lettie Mae. Naomi. And now Pam. _Not one person in my life anymore._ Tara would cry if she wasn't so jaded. Her entire human life she felt this way, and it wasn't any damn different now as a vampire.

Tara then felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around slowly and saw Pam was standing there, her expression significantly softer than usual. Pam's hand ran down Tara's arm and then gently clasped her hand. Tara looked down at their entwined hands.

"I'm sorry," Pam said. It was entirely genuine. Pam had quit fighting with the idea of being vulnerable and gave Tara her utmost sincerity. She opened her mouth, about to mention how she was being an unreasonable cunt, but then just gave Tara's hand a squeeze.

Tara felt all the anger flood out of her in one fell swoop. She looked up and met Pam's eyes.

"Come on," Pam murmured softly, tilting her head towards the tables and beckoning inside, "I'll help with the rest."


	2. Chapter 2

It was another typical night at Fangtasia. Pam sat in her throne, observing the club with a quiet composure. She eyed a thin, pale woman dressed in all black gyrating against a tall, greasy-haired vampire in the center of the floor. Another pair lurked in a corner, with a lanky, auburn-haired woman not-so-subtly pushing her hair to the side, revealing her neck to the one she was with.

Suddenly, Pam saw Jessica fly out of the bathroom, landing on a small table that collapsed to the ground. To her surprise, Pam saw Tara race out, blocking her face as Jessica smashed a chair over her. Tara smacked Jessica hard and grabbed her by the back of the head, throwing her across the room. Another vampire thankfully caught Jessica, who would have been crushed against the wall.

Pam stood up. "Okay, show's over," she declared.

Tara wasn't done. She growled and lunged towards Jessica.

"Tara, that's enough," Pam commanded. But her eyes sparkled with pride.

Tara rolled her eyes but halted.

"Guess that whole friendship thing is on hold," Jessica mumbled sarcastically as she stood up.

"What do you expect, when you come into_ my_ house and fuck with me?" Tara spat out.

Pam sped towards Tara. "Come with me," she ordered, grabbing Tara by hair and dragging her into her office.

Pam shoved Tara against the wall, getting right in her face. Tara braced herself for whatever was about to come.

"This is not your house, it is _mine_. You work here. Got it?"

Tara was pissed. Of course Pam was back to treating her like crap.

"Yes'm," Tara said. And couldn't help but add "_Missy Pam_."

Pam stayed silent for a moment, and Tara braced herself again.

Tara's comment amused Pam. She arched her eyebrow and tilted her head slightly. She then looked Tara up and down, ever so slowly.

"Ya did good out there, fighting. Made me proud."

Tara's expression changed. She stared at Pam and for the slightest moment, she let her guard down and felt a flash of desire rush through her.

An opportunity to be scathing came up and Pam just had to take it.

"Proud the way a human is proud of a well-trained dog," she said in a drawl.

Pam walked away, leaving Tara speechless.

"Nothing more," Pam hastily added.

Pam had a moment of self-doubt as she walked away, wondering if that was too obvious.

Tara tried to process what just happened. _Bullshit,_ a part of her was tempted to think. She stood there for another moment, and then wiped away the dried blood around her mouth and walked back to the bar counter.

Things had returned to normal when Tara emerged from the office. The shattered table and chair had been swept aside and people were back to drinking and socializing. Tara saw Jessica slouched over at a booth, and then eyed Hoyt who promptly sat down and joined her.

_I can feed on whoever the fuck I want,"_ Tara thought, as she grabbed a couple empty glasses off the counter and placed them in the sink.

Pam was back in her throne, back to observing. Tara snuck a quick glance, hoping she wouldn't be caught.

"Bitch," Tara muttered under her breath, ignoring her body and pushing out of her mind the ridiculous and preposterous notion that she was at all turned on. At anything that had to do with Pam. She shook off the image of Pam's face inches from hers, the way she smelled, the way Pam scanned her whole body and unapologetically locked eyes with her.

_Jesus, snap the fuck out of it_, Tara thought. _That woman is incapable for caring for anything for longer than five minutes_ _and you god damn know that._

Yet Tara looked back at Pam, this time taking in every inch of her. Her legs in those fish net tights, the way her red leather dress hugged her hips. The way her thick curls rested upon her cleavage.

Pam caught Tara looking at her. Tara panicked and turned around sharply, knocking over a glass as she did.

"God dammit!"Tara exclaimed. She kept her back turned from Pam, praying she didn't look suspicious while cursing herself under her breath.

"I'm cleaning it up!" Tara hollered hurriedly.

Pam watched her progeny struggle. She saw her muttering to herself and couldn't help but smile. Tara was almost… cute, the way she got flustered and frustrated. It was strange, these feelings Pam was experiencing. Twinges of amusement and enjoyment, emotions she hadn't genuinely felt in a long time.

Pam looked on at Tara, and realized for one of the first times just how much she enjoyed her being around.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: Apologies for how long it took me to update. It's hard trying to write when I have a full time job! Haha. And please comment; that's what makes this all worth it : ) **_

Tara kneeled as she cleaned up the broken glass. As she stood up she looked at Pam, who was quietly observing a Fangtasia dancer. Pam didn't look necessarily engrossed but her gaze was steady. The woman ran her fingers through her long, chestnut hair and circled her hips, slowly once, and then quickly twice, arching her lower back. She walked markedly in a circle with one hand draped lightly around the pole, the other seductively caressing her pelvis.

Tara watched the dancer intensely, then looked back at Pam.

"Hey, where's my fucking whiskey?" someone hollered from the bar counter.

Tara snapped out of it. "It's fucking coming" she retorted instinctively. Tara looked back at Pam, whose eyes were still on the dancer. A twinge of jealousy surfaced.

Tara had a thought, but had to wait until closing.

* * *

"That's not saying much, Tara. You're a pretty shitty bar tender."

"Fuck you," Tara replied.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said flatly. "Vanessa doesn't come in on Wednesdays, so you can try it tomorrow."

Tara nodded. Pam was unenthusiastic, but Tara couldn't wait to start. She knew she told Pam she wanted to try dancing because she was sick of bar tending, but a small part of her was gripped at the idea of performing for Pam. Of getting her attention. Of… turning her on, even.

"Just please don't make a fucking fool of yourself," Pam added. "I don't want my customers being driven away because some stroppy baby vamp can't work a pole properly."

"I won't," Tara said quietly, yet resolutely. "I won't." Tara met Pam's eyes, then turned to retire in her coffin. Pam's eyebrow raised as she watched her walk away.

* * *

Tara adjusted the leather collar around her neck before climbing up on the pole. Almost the entirety of her body was exposed: her dark, smooth skin, her toned, muscular limbs. Her lashes were thick and her hair was straight, falling over her shoulders. She felt sexy as hell.

Pam was looking down at her phone, texting rapidly. Tara looked around the room. A decent crowd tonight. A fang banger with dark-hair in a faux hawk was eyeing her. She recognized him, figuring he was a regular.

A new song started to blare and Tara began to dance. Pam's phone was away and her eyes were now on Tara.

Tara flipped her off, a small fuck you for her sarcastic comment about not being able to hold her own as a dancer. Tara wasn't angry anymore though. She locked eyes with Pam and felt a rush of energy and power course through her. Pam was watching her carefully. Tara slapped her ass and threw her torso over, arching her back and whipping her hair as she came up. She rolled her body fast and hard, never losing eye contact with Pam. She sensed there were others watching, but it truly felt like it was just Pam and her in the room.

_I know you fucking want me_, Tara thought.

Pam's eyes followed Tara as she sped up to the top of the pole. Pam had a small smile on her face. On a superficial level, she was simply pleased with the fact that her progeny was so striking and so self-possessed. But for the most part she was just undressing Tara with her eyes. She could watch this all night.

It was strange. Not that either of the two was reserved when it came to expressing desire and pursuing what they wanted. But it was as if, in this present moment, all of their bitter, conflicting history had melted away and they were on exactly the same page. It was so clear now. All the games and walls had dissipated and they were free to enjoy each other from across the room. It felt pretty fucking amazing.

Tara had never danced like this for someone before, especially in public. It was liberating in a way. And Pam's feelings of pride and lust were intertwined with flattery, because she seemed to be the only one Tara was directing her attention towards. Pam loved sexy women, yet there was something beneath the surface here too. They had only been connected by blood for a few days now, but there was clearly a deeper tie the both of them shared that was also at play.

Tara slowly slid up the pole when she heard a mild but familiar voice call out.

"Tara. Tara?" It was Lettie Mae.

"It's me, baby. Your mother," she said didactically.

_The fuck are you doing here?_ Tara thought.

"I know who you are," Tara responded blankly, stepping down from the pole.

"Oh. I wasn't sure if you would."

Lettie Mae's brow furrowed and she tilted her head. "How could you, Tara?"

"What?" Tara said, bewildered.

"How could you do this to me?" Lettie Mae asked.

"I didn't do _shit_ to you," Tara replied coldly.

Pam was observing them now, watching and listening intently.

"This is a terrible situation you've put me in. I'm a minister's wife now, I can't have any daughter of mine being a vampire," Lettie Mae explained.

"Why are you here, momma?" Tara asked distantly.

Lettie Mae walked in towards Tara. "I came here to tell you that from this day forward, you are dead to me baby girl… I came to say goodbye."

Her mother could have slapped her and it would have hurt less. Tara could no longer cry real tears, yet she stood there with her eyes glistening in a heartbreaking way.

"Oh no," Tara said forebodingly. "You'll be seeing me again." Tara popped her fangs out.

Lettie Mae swallowed and recoiled slightly. "I ain't afraid of you, child. I got Jesus up my back."

"Well la dee da," Tara uttered sarcastically.

"I'm going," Lettie Mae insisted.

"Then go," Tara whispered icily.

Lettie Mae stood there for a moment. She looked feebly at Tara. She backed up slowly, but then picked up her step and left the bar.

Tara watched her walk away, silently crushed yet equally furious. If she could count the number of times her mother had abandoned and disappointed her…

Tara swallowed down the hurt and got back up on the pole. Pam kept her eyes on Tara, her thoughts now sparked from witnessing this curious interaction. She felt a new sympathy stirring in her, but was also pleased with how Tara handled herself.

Tara started to dance again, this time out of obligation rather than desire. Her eyes were blank as her started to grind and gyrate for the club.

* * *

Most of Fangtasia seemed to be entertaining themselves, either hanging by the bar or scanning the room for their next meal and fuck. Tara figured she was entitled to a break. She stepped down from the pole and walked into Pam's office. Her thoughts were still reeling and she needed to be away from everyone. She sat in Pam's chair, placing her arms on the table and resting her chin over them.

Tara looked back, reflecting on her long and fucked up relationship with her mother. How she used to smack Tara every which way, how she would verbally abuse her, calling her a devil child, a dirty whore, no daughter of mine. How she would then cry for Tara immediately after disparaging her if she needed her help.

Tara remembered the good moments too though. When Lettie Mae made hot cakes for her for the first time in years. And when Tara was a little girl, when she bought her a new lavender dress to wear to church. How pretty and feminine she felt in it. Tara didn't stop smiling for a whole two days.

More bad memories. The number of times Lettie Mae was drunk in public, rambling off some complete nonsense to a stranger as Tara watched in humiliation. How she caught Lettie Mae sleeping with a married minister. How Lettie Mae ripped up her homework as a child and shouted in her in face because Tara wouldn't fetch her the vodka.

Tara felt nauseous.

_I hate you._

Yet it still somehow felt like a lie as she thought it.

Tara heard the door creak. Her head snapped up and she saw Pam walking in.

Tara panicked. "I'll move," she said meekly.

"No, it's okay. Sit."

Tara remained standing, still not convinced.

_Sit_," Pam said with authority.

Tara obeyed. She sat there, still too wrapped up in her current state of mind to remember their erotic interactions earlier that night.

Pam walked towards Tara and placed a hand on her hip. "You looked good up there," Pam said. "You were right; you're a better dancer than you are bar tender."

Tara knew it was a compliment, but she just felt emotionally exhausted. "Thanks," she said faintly.

Pam was gauging Tara's behavior. "So your mom's a real bitch," she added.

Tara was looking down at the floor. "Yeah," she replied. "I know she is… But what can you do? She's still my mom."

This line, to Pam's surprise, bothered her quite a bit. "No," she countered. "She's not… Not anymore."

Tara thought about this. She knew technically it was true, but it still didn't help. She laughed bitterly.

"Can you believe this shit? I fucking hate her," Tara said, her voice lowering. "But I'm crying for her anyways."

Tara's face quivered, and she wiped a tear away.

Usually anyone crying in front of her repulsed Pam, but she felt an unusual tug of compassion and concern as she looked down at Tara.

"Hey," Pam said, moving closer to her and sitting on top of the desk in front of her.

"Hey," she said again, this time so delicately, her voice rid of all its typical severity. Pam brought her hand underneath Tara's chin, lifting her head gently.

"A hundred years from now, you won't even remember her. This I promise you," Pam asserted. She brought her hand to Tara's arm, warmly giving it a squeeze.

Pam's touch always made Tara weak. She looked down and then couldn't resist the urge to hug Pam. And she held her tight.

Pam was caught off guard but let herself live in the embrace for a moment. She hesitantly placed her hands against Tara's back, and her head rested over her shoulder. This kind of compassion was still rare for Pam though, and she felt herself trying to battle with it.

"Okay, break's over," she announced, as Tara continued clinging to her. The two of them broke apart.

Tara gazed at her with such openness and vulnerability, it was jarring to Pam. It felt so intoxicating and so uncomfortable at the same time. Pam knew she was ruining a moment, but she didn't know what to do with herself.

"Time to… get back up on that pole," Pam said in staccato. She walked away slowly, still trying to grapple with her feelings.

Tara stood there awkwardly, left hanging. Still, she felt better. Her mind was no longer on Lettie Mae.

She could feel a love and a trust building for someone else now.


	4. Chapter 4

Ever since the moment they shared after Lettie Mae's appearance, Pam had consciously, or unconsciously, started treating Tara less austerely. She felt herself starting to truly accept, and even enjoy, the responsibilities that came with being a maker. She captured Tara's blonde, bigoted dimwit of an enemy from high school to act as her own readily available food whore. She watched Tara bite into Tracy's neck and felt such a sadistic pride as she climbed the stairs, leaving them to it.

As a vampire, Pam always strived to be in control, to dominate and have the upper hand. But being a maker was a different kind of power. While she and Tara certainly bickered, it was undeniable and indisputable that Pam had authority over her. But this wasn't all that Pam enjoyed, or even most of it. Pam would never admit out loud that it was a kind of maternal bond that she was beginning to feel, yet watching Tara learn and grow as a vampire, understanding it was she who was imparting this knowledge to her, honestly felt so good. Pam never wanted kids. But Tara was not a child. Tara was an independent, go-getting, and not to mention incredibly sexy vampire and Pam was really starting to embrace this. At least, deep under the surface.

Pam had taught Tara how to feed on a human, particularly how to stop before killing them. She explaining how sleeping in the ground was possible if without a coffin, and how if Tara didn't rest enough, she would get the bleeds. Pam checked off in her mind these lessons and thought of the many more she still needed to give.

XXX

Tara walked into Pam's office. She had some blood around her mouth and she came in with a small smirk on her face.

"Well you look satisfied," Pam uttered plainly.

Tara grinned. "That was fucking awesome," she said. "And delicious."

Pam chuckled. "Well, the bitch deserved it."

Tara recollected for a moment. "Yeah, guess so." Tara looked around the room. "I'm still starving," she finally remarked.

"Yes, I can tell. Your fangs are still out."

Tara needlessly ran her tongue under one of them, feeling the sharp tip.

"They seem to be out all the time," Tara observed with some frustration, then consciously retracted them.

"Well they don't just come out when you need to feed," Pam explained.

"When I'm angry, too," Tara noted, remembering her fight with Jessica.

"And when you're turned on," Pam said flatly.

Tara misinterpreted this, deeming it more as an accusatory observation Pam was making about her.

"I don't get turned on! I- I mean, I haven't been, at all, since... That- that's not why they, tha-that hasn't happened so far, for that reason I mean…" Tara stammered.

Pam lifted an eyebrow. "I was speaking generally, Tara," she replied, amused once again at Tara's fretfulness.

"Oh…" Tara mumbled. "Right."

"Just making sure you're informed," Pam commented.

Tara nodded, swallowing her embarrassment.

"Doesn't seem like I need to teach you how to fight, though," Pam said. "You kicked the shit out of Jessica."

One side of Tara's mouth lifted into a small smile. "I used to fight. In the ring. For a little while, that is," Tara explained, still feeling a little self-conscious.

"Really." Pam said. "Couldn't imagine something like that in Bon Temps."

"It wasn't here. It was in N'awlins. It was this… all-girl, fight club… kinda… thing." Tara spluttered out.

An image of the place generated in Pam's mind and the corners of her lips turned up. "How sweet," she said, looking at Tara again.

Tara laughed nervously, then started to ramble. "I… left Bon Temps for a while. I mean, I came back because we all thought Sookie was dead but then it turned out to she was alive, and-"

"Yes, the whole world revolves around Sookie, doesn't it?" Pam interjected, rolling her eyes and remembering Tara's relationship with the insufferable blonde.

At this point, Tara couldn't help but agree. "No, I know. I mean…I saved her life and look where the fuck it got me, right?" she said softly.

Pam could see a misery start to creep onto Tara's face, and realized she disliked this so much not because this sentimentality repulsed her, but really because she didn't like seeing Tara upset.

"Well fuck Sookie. You got me now."

Tara looked at Pam. While the haunting reminder that she was dead was still spinning around in her mind, Pam's words made her melt.

"Come on," Pam said, getting up from her chair and starting to walk away.

"Where are we going?" Tara asked, caught off guard.

But Pam had already left office. Tara scurried off behind her.

XXX

An hour later. Pam and Tara were back at Fangtasia, down in the dungeon. A young woman with sleek brown hair that fell down her back sat on a table front of them. She wasn't tied up, but she did look silently afraid.

Pam tilted her head and then looked at Tara.

"Y'know, I usually don't do this," Pam stated.

"Do what? " Tara asked. "Feed on humans? Cuz shit, I don't think I've ever even seen you drink a Tru Blood before," she realized.

"No," Pam retorted. "I meant I don't need to leave Fangtasia to procure someone when I need to feed. I always find someone willing here. But I'm going to teach you something."

The woman's eyes widened and she spoke up. "Please don't kill me," she whispered.

"I'm not going to kill you, sweetheart," Pam said, almost seductively as she bent down closer to her.

The woman exhaled audibly. "Okay," she said, calmer now.

"Tara," Pam said, holding her gaze with the woman. "Come here."

Tara moved closer, unsure of what was happening next.

"Now watch what I do," Pam said, moving her face even closer to the woman's. "I'll have you try in a moment."

Pam's gaze was steady and focused. The air became eerily still as Pam began to glamor the woman.

"We are not going to harm you," Pam said smoothly. She ran her fingers through the woman's hair, and the woman stared at her wide-eyed.

"You're not?" she murmured.

"No," Pam replied, shaking her head slowly. She never broke eye contact with the woman as she spoke. "Your entire body is relaxing. You are happy to give us your blood. Everything feels so good." Pam's voice dripped with allure. The woman nodded. Tara was so captivated she felt like she was being glamored too.

"Now could you please take your skirt off," Pam requested.

Tara jerked out of it. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice jumping an octave.

Pam held up a finger to Tara without breaking eye contact.

The woman slid her skirt down. Pam stood up, placing her hands on the woman's hips and slid her closer.

"Spread your legs, please."

The girl obliged.

"What the fuck, Pam?!" Tara said, freaking out.

Pam wore a small smile. "Calm the fuck down," she said quietly, opening her mouth slightly as her fangs emerged.

Pam scooted the woman a little closer to her face, pausing roguishly for a moment because she knew Tara was squirming as she watched on.

She then sank her fangs into the woman's inner thigh.

Tara took an unnecessary breath and exhaled out of relief. She watched Pam, this time truly taking in the image of Pam's face in between the woman's legs. She couldn't look away.

Tara's fangs popped out. And not out of hunger.

She couldn't help it. Her imagination was one thing, having to conjure up her own secret fantasies of being with Pam in the privacy of her secluded coffin. But the sight of her maker on her knees with her face buried in between a moaning, shuddering woman as blood dripped down her inner thigh was too much.

_Jesus fucking christ_, she thought.

Pam rose slightly, looking up at Tara. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, her eyebrow raised. Pam licked the blood off her lips and moved the woman's hair away from one side of her neck.

Tara hesitated for a moment. This whole thing had rendered her rather speechless.

"I know I don't have to force you anymore," Pam added wickedly.

They locked eyes. Tara wanted to jump her right then and there. Pam knew exactly what Tara was thinking and couldn't stop simpering. She and Eric had been in plenty of situations like this before, but this was different somehow. In a fucking amazing way.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Finally updated! By the way, it's going to get much sexier and heated, not to worry! __Please comment :) **_

Pam and Tara's interactions changed on a nightly basis. There were moments when both of them could literally feel each other's arousal within their own bodies, and others where they were back to squabbling, irritated as hell at the other. Still, an underlying level of desire seemed to always be present, or at least ready to emerge at any time. It hadn't gotten overwhelmingly out-of-control yet, but there were moments when both of them felt like it certainly could.

Even so, there were much larger, more pressing things happening in their lives. It was chaos in the vampire world. The Tru Blood factory bombings had started to drastically affect Fangtasia's business, and Pam couldn't help but wonder how Eric was in the midst of this complete mayhem.

She sat in her office, watching the news relay the same story and express the same concerns she had seen over and over again in the past few days.

She looked up and saw Tara walking in with four boxes of Tru Blood stacked atop each other. Pam closed her pink laptop.

"What are you doing?" Pam asked.

"We should have enough Tru Blood to last us a couple weeks if we stop serving it now," Tara explained.

"We're not going to stop serving it" Pam retorted.

"You've seen the news, right?" Tara asked, baffled.

Pam was now used to having these types of didactic conversations with Tara, who was so young and genuinely knew so little. Yet educating Tara didn't feel as much of a chore to Pam anymore, even though she never appeared enthusiastic while doing it. Her progeny, as stubborn as she was, always listened to her intently, wanting to learn as much as she could. There was a mutual level of respect building between the two of them, despite their snappy, defensive exteriors.

Pam explained the situation, and Tara complied, even though she realized that once they were out of stock, disorder would ensue. Tara lifted the boxes again and started to walk out. But she then stopped and turned around, giving in to the impulse to say something else.

"Hey," she added, peeking around the boxes in an adorable way. "I may be like a week old, but I'm not an idiot," she declared.

Pam wasn't looking at her, but listened closely.

"You're worried about Eric…" Tara murmured, treading softly. She knew she was putting herself out there, but furthered with, "If you need someone to talk to-"

Pam sped towards her and got right in her face. Whenever she felt vulnerability start to surface around Tara, she felt like she was losing the higher ground.

"Just because we drank a bitch together does not make us Oprah and Gayle. Get the fuck back to work," Pam spat out.

As caught off guard as she was, part of Tara was expecting this reaction, and she was ready to counterattack.

"_Suck me. _Vampire Barbie..." Tara mumbled indignantly as she walked away.

Pam's eyebrow rose. Her walls were up so high she couldn't admit to herself that she would in fact like to do that to Tara. That she had in fact thought about touching Tara. Many times…

But she was too wrapped up in worry to even go there right now.

Pam walked back to her desk and studied a picture of her and Eric together, lightly touching the frame as she felt an ache tug at her. She then turned her head towards the doorway, a small part of her realizing that she wasn't actually alone anymore. That being with Tara felt almost as, if not just as comforting and safe as being with Eric was. She then felt a pang of guilt at the idea that she was trying to replace him. She knew of course that she could never do this, that she wouldn't rest until her maker returned to her. But the idea that she_ could_ be happy with just her own progeny… terrified her.

And at the same time it was so wonderful that she felt like crying.

XXX

Tara was back to bar tending. Fangtasia had a surprisingly good turn out that night, considering everything that was going on. Pam walked out of her office and scanned the room, observing Tara for a moment who was feverishly trying to serve everyone their drinks. Whether she knew it or not, Tara had started to take her job more seriously. Perhaps this was once she realized that Fangtasia was her home now and that she cared about its well-being, or perhaps it was because wanted to please Pam. Either way, there was a noticeable change.

Pam's eyes moved to Eric's throne, where she then saw some pathetic wannabe emo vampire sitting in it as he fed from a woman's chest. Pam was fuming. Tara watched her vamp speed towards him, and then kick the human in his lap onto the ground as he finally looked up at her.

Tara didn't know what this was all about, but she knew Pam was pissed. She went back to her business, knowing her maker could handle herself. However, moments later she saw Pam thrown into the air, landing heavily onto a table that then collapsed. Without question, she raced to her side, kneeling and squeezing Pam's arm as she gave her her best "what the fuck?" face.

"Grab a human, drinks are on me!" they heard Elijah holler.

Pam and Tara looked around, watching as the vampires in the bar started to realize that there had been a change in feeding laws. They then began to grab any nearby human and sink their fangs into them, wherever they wanted.

Tara was waiting for Pam to say something, but her maker was too overwhelmed to speak at all.

XXX

The next night, Sheriff Elijah returned. Pam was far from giddy to see him, but she had calmed down somewhat since the last night, understanding he was significantly stronger and more powerful than she was. He asked to see her in her office, and Pam asked Tara to come with her. She was completely capable of handling matters by herself, but she was now comfortable admitting to herself that she liked Tara being around, and even discussing matters with "we" instead of "I."

Elijah sat down, and Pam resisted the urge to kick him out of her chair. Tara sat down across from Elijah while Pam stood with her hands on her hips, peeved but retaining her composure. Elijah sorted through the club's money, and when he finished, Pam looked down at Tara.

"Well fuck me, he can count past five," Pam uttered dryly. Tara smirked. This was strange and new. They felt completely as equals here before Elijah. Tara sat with such confidence, and even spoke for the both of them when he questioned them. They really had become a partnership.

As Elijah explained the peep show booths, Pam and Tara simultaneously glanced at each other. Pam was quiet, but the answer "no" was all over her face.

It wasn't until Elijah brought up the procreation mandate that Pam finally spoke up.

"And if we don't?" she asked defiantly.

"Then in the name of the Authority I take possession of your assets, including your progeny," Elijah replied straightforwardly.

Tara felt a panic wash over her. Pam glowered at Elijah, staying silent but thinking "_you son of a bitch"_ to herself.

"Well if that's all, I'd very much appreciate if you got the hell out of my office," Pam pronounced. "We have work to do."

Elijah got up. "If by work you mean tending to the handful of pathetic fang bangers loitering in this practically empty bar. Good luck staying in business," he said as he walked away. As he passed Tara, he stopped and put his hands on her chin. He turned her head to the side, checking out in his mind, his future property.

"Don't you fucking touch her," Pam snarled.

Elijah chuckled. "Have a nice night, ladies." And with that, he was gone.

XXX

It was almost closing. Pam sat in her maker's throne, silent. To her, it already felt like Eric's throne had been defiled, that this entire place had been. Tara walked over and joined her when she realized people had stopped ordering drinks, but also because she was bursting with questions. Her thoughts were still reeling about the procreation mandate. _I don't even know how to be a fucking vampire, how the hell am I going to make one?_ she thought.

Pam glanced around the room. "Look at all of them," she muttered finally. "Like I'd ever turn any of them."

"Fine, I'll make two. I always wanted kids," Tara responded, trying to sound confident even though she was utterly clueless. But there was no way in hell was she letting Elijah take her away…

Pam turned and glared at her so hard it was almost funny.

"But we _have_ to," Tara retorted, although it felt more like a question.

"No," Pam growled, her voice low and steady. "We procreate because we _want_ to, not because some dickhead dipped in afterbirth told us to."

"So what then? You let Elijah take everything from you? The money, the bar… me?" Tara asked, desperately hoping Pam would refute this.

"He can have the fucking bar," Pam responded. "What's it worth at this point?" She was trying her damndest to suppress her rage and hurt.

"You and me, we live in the wind," Pam started. "Just like I did with Eric. We don't need this fucking place. It's four walls and plaster, that's _all_." Pam felt a surge of emotion rising up in her, so she stood up and walked away before anyone could notice.

Tara watched her walk away. She had an idea, but she was also dwelling on what just happened. So much of what Pam revealed was in what _wasn't _said.

"We procreate because we _want_ to. _I chose to make you._" "He can have the fucking bar, _but he can't have you_."

Tara knew that's what Pam was really saying.

There was no breaking them apart. Ever.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N **Whoa, an update! Everyone including myself thought I had forgotten about this fic, haha, but here I am. I've been focused more on my other fic currently, but I definitely haven't forgotten about this one. If you like this one, let me know and I will make sure to continue it and update it more frequently. Xoxo_

Tara remained standing beside the throne for a while. As exciting and relieving as it was to hear that Pam was ready to leave this place at a moment's notice, and just as ready to take Tara with her, she didn't want to flee. Tara was finally easing into her life here, and she knew how much Fangtasia meant to Pam. Heck, just a few days ago Pam had choked her and threatened to silver her until the next millennium if she did anything to mess with the place.

Then suddenly it came to her. The solution. That would ensure the both of them needn't abandon this place. Tara ruminated for a while, trying to work through if there were any other feasible options. But there weren't.

Well… if Pam wasn't going to do it, then she had to.

She had to kill the Sheriff.

XXX

Tara waited impatiently, and she swore she could feel her heart racing despite this obvious impossibility. She and Ginger had it all planned out, but it could all go to hell within an instant and in any number of ways. Still, Tara's naiveté also came a certain gumption and fortitude. No established, level-headed vampire would ever dream of doing what Tara was about to do. But she was a fighter, even when the odds were stacked entirely against her.

They waited uneasily in the office, Ginger lying on the desk whispering impatiently about how long this was going to take. The only reason Tara convinced her to partake in this was by explaining that she would lose her job here if Elijah did end up taking possession of Fangtasia. Tara also could have glamored her, but she didn't feel confident enough in those abilities yet.

They continued to wait, Tara pacing around like a maniac. Suddenly, her head perked up. She heard someone walking into Fangtasia, and Tara pushed open the office's door to greet Elijah, who was seemingly agitated.

Tara was definitely not the best actress; if someone was really paying attention, they'd be able to see right through the front she was putting on. She was "panicking" as she led Elijah into the supply room, biting her nails in a stereotypical display of anxiety. Elijah didn't seem to notice though. All he wanted was to get out of there, and he figured Tara was hopped up on baby vamp hormones and was just naturally overdramatic.

Tara recited all of her rehearsed lines, adding her own inside joke as she referenced a moment from _Gone with the Wind_. Her eyes never strayed from Elijah as he moved towards Ginger, bending down to check for her pulse. He turned back around to face Tara too quickly though, and Tara added a hasty "Is she breathing?" to try and buy more time. Thankfully, Elijah turned back around, leaning back down as he hovered over Ginger's face.

"She's holding her breath-"

Suddenly, Ginger thrust a silver dagger into the space between Elijah's shoulder and chest. He turned around, stunned and suddenly destabilized.

Tara knew this was her time. She turned and quickly grabbed the sword, swinging the blade hard and slicing his head clean off. The rest of his body crumpled to the floor in a bloody mess.

Ginger screamed, sickened by the blood-covered guts that had fallen and stuck to her hands. Tara didn't squirm once though; she held her ground, feeling accomplished as hell.

Pam was out by the bar, but as soon as she heard a scream she sped into the office. One look at the floor and then at the sword in Tara's hand and her mouth dropped open.

"You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me," she uttered. What the fuck did Tara just do? As much as Pam loathed him and had fantasized about killing him herself, she would never dare to _actually _do this. And the fact that _Tara_ of all vampires had managed to achieve this, this fresh-out-the-ground, not even month-old baby vamp managing to take on a vampire who was centuries older than her, far surpassing her in strength and speed.

Tara stood there resiliently, moving her hand to push the bloody remains of Elijah off her sword.

"We're not running," she declared, her voice low and deliberate. "No one fucks with us in _our_ house."

Pam was so caught off-guard by all of this that at first, she was… dare she say, impressed at Tara's nerve. Her progeny did not take shit from anyone.

Pam looked down at the bloody heap that was formerly Sheriff Elijah Stormer. The gravity of the situation was now starting to surface. She hoped that none of the other vampires in Fangtasia had sensed any sort of disturbance. The music had been blaring the entire time, but Ginger was also very loud.

"Clean this up," Pam finally remarked. "_All of it_," she added.

Tara nodded, and noticed that Pam seemed to be worried, afraid almost. Tara opened her mouth to say something, but Pam left the office. She went back outside and planned on pretending like nothing had happened.

XXX

Fangtasia was closed now. Tara tirelessly scrubbed every surface of the office for over an hour. She felt like she had used every possible cleaning product they had in stock, trying to bleach, sterilize, and disinfect everywhere to ensure that there was no indication that Elijah had ever been here. Pam had glamored Ginger to be safe, and also to spare herself the irritation that Ginger provoked in her whenever the she had been "traumatized."

Tara sat up, finally done scouring and scrutinizing the area. She walked out of the office and beckoned Pam over, who had been sitting in her throne silently as she panicked on the inside.

Pam walked inside the room, looking around vigilantly and using her keen vampire sense of smell to make sure Elijah's blood was not at all lingering in the air. She walked over to the desk, bending down and running her hand over the surface, checking to make sure everything was absolutely immaculate.

"We cleaned it all up. There's not a drop of blood of Elijah anywhere," Tara asserted. She still didn't understand why Pam seemed so freaked out, but was trying her best to prove her point and to quell Pam's fears. "I went over this place with a toothbrush," she added.

Pam stood up, then checked the undersides of the folders and papers that lay over her desk. The spotlessness of the room did little to make her feel at ease.

"Killing a sheriff…" she murmured. "This is going to go up the chain."

Tara stood by the door, her legs spread in a wide stance, her face free of make up. Her hair was down and her arms hung down by her sides. She looked like a little girl, confused and oblivious and oh so full of questions.

"What chain?" she asked, perplexed at the idea that vampires had any sense of structure and society organizing them all.

"The fucking authority," Pam answered as she continued to comb over everything on the desk.

"What's the damn authority?" Tara asked genuinely. She honestly didn't have a clue. Pam then felt a stab of regret, criticizing herself for never having explained any of this to her progeny before. She had mentioned the Authority to her in passing once, but without any sort of further elaboration. Now she realized her crucial mistake. Neglecting to inform baby vamps that there is a higher power out there that has the almighty ability to torture, imprison, or even kill you for breaking the law… Pam should have known better. New vampires are the most impulsive, and not having this knowledge so often led to their own demise.

Tara stood there, trying to understand the gravity of the situation but she still wasn't getting it. Pam gave her a brief summary of what the Authority was, but Tara's only real comparison was to human bodies of government which did not resonate properly.

"Well the Pope can fuck me and so can the authority. They can both keep their laws off of my body," Tara uttered plainly, crossing her arms and maintaining her original stance.

Pam inched towards Tara deliberately, trying to stay calm as she felt a panic and an anger twisting inside of her. She was determined to stay strong and not freak Tara out, but she also needed to communicate to her the gravity of the situation, something her progeny was still failing to grasp.

"The authority can do _whatever_ they want with you _and_ your body," Pam stated unforgivingly, and Tara's eyes grew wide.

Pam didn't want to scare her with any more information, so she began to walk out of the room. "We're not going to talk about this ever again," she said. Maybe if they didn't, the news of this murder might somehow not leave Fangtasia. Wishful thinking.

Tara still had so many more questions and wouldn't let Pam walk away that easily. "But do you think that they're gonna come-"

"For fuck's sake Tara!" Pam cried, turning around and marching back towards her. Why wasn't she listening? Did she not realize she would be killed for this? Or worse? Pam could never live with herself if she let anything happen to her.

"As your maker I command you to never to speak of Sheriff Elijah and his untimely true death," Pam ordered, locking eyes with Tara and holding there for a while, trying desperately to ensure that Tara understood.

Tara gazed back at her, eyes wide with fear and alarm as her chin quivered. She looked like a lost, scared, innocent puppy and the thought of losing her flashed vividly through Pam's mind. It was absolutely unbearable. This was her _child_. She would not allow it. Ever.

She walked out of the room and clenched her jaw tightly. She couldn't be around Tara right now. She had to be the strong one.

XXX

Jessica had showed up minutes later. Pam was _not _in the mood. She couldn't deal with any more trouble right now. But the young redhead bargained her way into staying with them when she told Pam where Eric was. A flood of relief swept through Pam when she heard this. Her maker was safe. Well, relatively. And for now. Still, to have any sort of news on him was incredible; ever since he went missing Pam had been praying that he was alive somewhere and that he was safe.

But now there was someone else she needed to look out for. Someone who would literally die without her. Someone who couldn't take care of herself like Eric could. And someone whom Pam realized she had come to profoundly love and care for. Tara had been with her, had _been_ hers, for just two weeks, but like the newest of human mothers, an overwhelming love and attachment can develop the moment your child enters this world. It had taken Pam a little while to develop and acknowledge these feelings, to get to this place, but now there was no straying from it.

Tara had not picked up on any of this from Pam. She just thought her maker was furious with her. She didn't intuit that Pam was feeling such strong emotions because she was worried about Tara's safety. About her _life. _She figured that Pam would also somehow be punished for what happened to Elijah, and that's why she was so upset.

How wrong Tara would learn she was in just a matter of minutes.

XXX

Pam was calmer now. She, Tara, and Jessica were in the basement of Fangtasia, and Pam listened as Jessica explained the fundamental and appalling changes she had seen from Bill at the Authority.

Pam enlightened the two young vampires on "nests", and while Tara listened closely, she couldn't help but stare at Pam the entire time. Her maker's hair was down in perfect golden curls, and the corset she wore hugged her body and showed off every curve. As much as she disputed with her and gave her grief, Tara was simply in awe of the woman.

She didn't quite know how Pam felt about her though. Sometimes she would feel traces of emotion through their bond, but Pam was an expert at shutting her out, at keeping her feelings to herself. So for now, all Tara could do was look at her.

Jessica thanked Pam for giving her a coffin and letting her stay there with the two of them, and sure enough, Pam was quick on her feet, responding immediately with a sarcastic, biting comeback before turning to walk away.

Tara watched her leave, her eyes running up and down the length of her body. This woman just... fascinated her.

Jessica sat there quietly, a little put off by Pam's sarcastic insult, but she really wasn't surprised.

"She's all bark, isn't she?" Jessica mumbled.

"Naw," Tara answered. "She's a lot of bark…" She curled her hand and looked down casually at her fingernails. "And a lot of bite…" she added in a low murmur.

Jessica's brow wrinkled. She looked over at Tara, her curiosity now sparked. There was something in the way Tara said that line…

"Do you… like her?" Jessica asked, deciding to just throw it out into the open.

Tara turned to look at her, not really sure what she meant.

"What?" she replied.

"You know, like… _like _her?" Jessica continued, her shoulders lifting as she smiled girlishly.

"No!" Tara breathed, suddenly on the defensive. She had no idea how Jessica could have gathered this idea. Was she that obvious? Did she catch her staring at Pam? Had Pam said something to her?

"Why would you even say something like that?" Tara questioned, trying to sound cool but coming off as incredibly flustered.

"I'm just asking," Jessica countered. It was funny how much Tara was trying to deny it. Not that she was positive about how Tara felt, but it seemed the lady doth protest too much…

"Well I don't know that many people of a, _gay_ persuasion," Jessica said, hoping she wasn't coming off offensively. "It just seemed like you two were getting along, that's all."

"I'm sorry but you have no idea what you're talking about," Tara retorted.

"I didn't say that I did, that's why I was asking," Jessica replied.

Tara was still completely thrown off by this conversation. What had she possibly done to give Jessica this impression? Did Jessica think Pam liked her back? And as soon as this thought generated in her mind, she wanted desperately to ask her. To even ask Jessica if she thought Pam might come to like her, if she had the potential to. But Tara didn't dare bring it up. Because first of all, that would mean she was admitting to the fact that she _did_ like Pam. "Like that."

This was all so juvenile, like they were two girls in elementary school "talking about boys" as Pam had so dryly stated. But Tara for some reason could not admit her feelings out loud to Jessica. Perhaps because she felt caught, like Jessica was accusing her. And also because the idea of wanting Pam and not being wanted back was still a huge, mortifying possibility. So Tara sat there, clearly uncomfortable but still not admitting to a thing.

"Pam and me, _never gonna happen_," Tara affirmed.

"'Kay, fine, sorry I asked," Jessica apologized.

"I don't see why you feel the need to get all up in my business," Tara added, standing up and moving away from her. Thank God her back was to her because her face was a dead give away, eyes glancing nervously from side to side as she crossed her arms.

Jessica mercifully moved on to a new subject. And it was sweet, because she brought up the idea of Tara and her being friends. While Pam taught Tara vital things that she needed to know, she was older and didn't always understand what Tara was feeling and going through. Jessica on the other hand easily sympathized with her and related to her.

Tara wasn't really used to making friends; she hadn't had many in her lifetime. But this seemed natural, and it actually felt good, hearing Jessica say that she enjoyed talking to her. Most people Tara knew didn't even want to be in the same room with her. This was a refreshing and surprising change. Tara smiled, offering to bring Jessica a fang banger later before walking back upstairs.

XXX

Tara returned to her shift at the bar. The place was practically empty; there were a couple humans loitering around and a dancer in leather working her body against the pole, swiveling her hips and running her hand through her wavy auburn hair.

Tara's hand grasped the beer lever, gently pulling down as she filled an empty glass. She slowly looked up, sneaking a glance at Pam, who sat in her throne in such a regal and poised way. Tara smiled.

She then turned her head, seeing a small, self-assured looking woman enter the club. She had short, fiery red hair and wore a bright pink blazer. Her heels clicked against the floor as she strolled over to the counter. Tara moved down to approach her, surprised to see a vampire coming to Fangtasia during such a scarcity and time of chaos.

"We're all out of Tru Blood," Tara said as she leaned her elbows against the counter, getting right to the point.

The woman gave her a wicked smile and raised her eyebrows. "What else ya serving?"

"You're welcome to try your luck with this fine cross-section of humanity," Tara replied, causing the woman to chuckle ominously.

"I'm looking for my progeny. He's Sheriff of these parts," Rosalyn asserted plainly.

Tara swallowed, trying to act nonchalant. She had no intention on telling her what really happened to him, but even the thought of doing so created a painful strain in her chest, due to the command of silence Pam gave her.

"Came 'round here last night. We paid our taxes, and he moved on," Tara managed to get out.

Rosalyn's head cocked back and her voice rose in pitch. "Oh is that right?" she inquired mockingly.

"Yeah," Tara replied, more adamant now.

Rosalyn used vamp speed to pin Tara's head down to the counter and Tara squealed in pain.

Pam's head snapped towards the two of them. One look at Rosalyn and she was ready to stake the bitch right then and there, but instead she calmly stepped down from her throne, watching them carefully as she moved closer.

Tara whimpered but kept her mouth shut. The woman's grip on her scalp was painful and deliberate, but Tara couldn't speak even if she tried.

"Who killed him?" Rosalyn demanded, aggressively pulling Tara's face closer to hers. "Was it you?" she asked menacingly.

Before Tara could even attempt to say something, a low, steady voice drawled from behind them.

"It was me."

Rosalyn shoved Tara away and turned around. There was Pam, standing before them unflinchingly. She glared at Rosalyn, and the slightest of a smirk graced her countenance.

Tara stood there paralyzed, shaking, completely stunned. Her ears were ringing unexplainably and she couldn't hear very well. All she could do was watch as Rosalyn slowly stalked towards Pam, whose expression remained confident and unwavering.

"What possessed you… to murder my progeny?" Rosalyn asked.

"He was getting on my nerves," Pam retorted wryly. She appeared so unrepentant, but on the inside she was just waiting for a stake to be driven through her heart, any second now. But if she was going to go this way, she was not going to allow Tara's last memory of her to be one of weakness. She held her ground and tried to stay composed as possible.

Tara watched on, standing there completely useless, and still unable to process everything that was happening.

Rosalyn snapped her fingers, and a swarm of guards infiltrated the room. Tara watched as they handcuffed Pam's wrists behind her back, pushing her forward as they began to take her away.

This was all happening so fast. Where were they taking her? Why didn't they just kill her immediately on the spot? Was she to be executed later? Was this case closed or was Tara still in danger?

The guards pushed Pam towards the exit, but before she was gone, she looked up and met Tara's eyes. Her progeny stood there absolutely petrified, unable to move, unable to speak. But she looked at Pam, her head shaking as her whole body trembled, seeing her for what was very likely the last time.


End file.
